


Pansy's Revenge

by Noppoh



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Fake/Pretend Relationship, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-17
Updated: 2019-04-17
Packaged: 2020-01-15 14:37:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,702
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18501028
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Noppoh/pseuds/Noppoh
Summary: When Pansy gets dumped, she decides that revenge is needed. And what better way than to publicly date the one man that annoys her ex the most?





	Pansy's Revenge

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Sing Me a Rare Volume 3. 
> 
> Much love to Coyg_81 and LaBelladoneX for being my Alpha and Beta. Their stories are most definitely worth checking out!
> 
> Song Prompt: You Oughta Know - Alanis Morrisette
> 
> If you feel any tag or warning should be added, feel free to let me know. I'm also open to constructive criticism. 
> 
> Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters or settings.

 

How dare he! With a frustrated growl, she crumbled the letter to a ball and threw it into the empty fireplace. A well-aimed, anger-fueled, wandless charm combusted and incinerated the offending paper. It was not as if it meant anything. It was not as if her multiple rereadings had caused her to memorise every single word.

It was not as if she hadn’t seen it coming. Her friends/spies in Bulgaria had already told her about a suspicious-looking friendship. She had denied it any credibility though. Who in their right mind would leave  _ her  _ for an older woman? She glared at the ashes that were left of his letter.

_ Pansy, My Love, _

_ How are you? I know it has been too long since I owled or Floo-ed you. I would say Quidditch kept me busy, but I do not wish to lie to you. _

_ You know I love spending time together and that I miss you whenever we are apart. You are a wonderful, beautiful woman. It is simply that I think this relationship isn’t working for us anymore.  _

_ Do you want me to tell you why? Or tell you more about how wonderful you are and how this is my fault? I know you love your compliments. Just owl me, I’ll do whatever you wish to make this easier for you. _

_ Because, in all honesty, I have found someone new, and I believe she is a better fit for me than you are. She’s Bulgarian, for one, and she works for the company that sponsors our brooms. Not that you would be interested in knowing that. _

_ Anyway, I’m breaking up with you. I’m sorry. I hope life treats you well, Pans. All the best to you. _

_ Viktor Krum. _

The toad didn’t even have the courage to Floo and tell her in person. No, like any coward of a man, he broke up with her through a (badly written) letter. 

Bisera Korkoliya. According to Pansy’s friends, that was her name. Part of the marketing team of  _ MetliMetli _ — which was the silliest company name  _ ever  _ according to Pansy — and about eight years older than Viktor. Eight! What did the woman have that Pansy hadn’t, except for wrinkles? 

With an outraged cry, she aimed a  _ Reducto _ at the picture frames on the cabinet against the far wall. That good-for-nothing piece of dragon dung! She was better off without him. At least, that’s what she would convince herself of over a drink, or two.

Pansy checked the clock and decided to get Draco and Blaise to join in on her alcohol-induced pity party. Why drink alone if you could drink in company?

Draco and Blaise were the only two who had deigned to talk to her after the fiasco that was the Battle of Hogwarts. At least, a fiasco for her. Just like everybody else, she was elated to have the Dark Lord gone, but seemingly no-one was willing to forgive her for wanting to hand over Harry-bloody-Saint-Potter. Why should one man be of more importance than so many others? 

Afterwards, of course, she had understood his importance. But still, he had eventually done  _ exactly _ what she had offered to do for him — hand himself over to the Dark Lord. Why was nobody forgiving her? 

The public’s attitude had changed somewhat over the last years, with her moving out of her parents’ mansion and dating Viktor Krum, but it still happened that she wasn’t welcome in some place or another. Money did only get her so far.

Shaking her head, she lit a fire in the grate and grabbed the Floo-powder. It was time to get well and truly pissed, and she was determined not to do it alone. Viktor Krum and his new, ancient mistress could kiss her ass!

xXxXxXx About 4 months later xXxXxXx

Pansy groaned as she read the news in the society section of the Prophet; Viktor Krum would attend the annual sports gala with his new belle. 

It had taken the papers and magazines some time to pick up on their break-up. After all, long periods of separation weren’t unusual for the couple. Viktor  _ was  _ an international Quidditch player. It was only when a Bulgarian paparazzo caught him on camera kissing this Bisera-bitch, that the storm had started. 

It gratified Pansy some that the papers also seemed to question his sanity in dating someone older than him. Why would you, if you could get any girl in the world? Why would you, if you already had English elite on your arm? (They conveniently forgot about the ostracization Pansy had endured). One or two even dared to insinuate it was merely a ploy to ensure further funding from  _ MetliMetli _ .

But now he was coming to London to flaunt his new woman in front of the press. There was no evading the gala for Pansy, as her father was one of the big benefactors. Besides, she’d rather get buried alive than pushed out of society by a mere  _ man _ . One who inexplicably developed a bad taste in women to boot.

No! She would show up with pride. She would show him what he had lost. She would…

She would have to find a date better than him.

She would have to get the one seeker ranked higher than Viktor bloody Krum to come as her date.

xXxXxXx Saturday next xXxXxXx

He stood at her arrival, inclining his head. “Miss Parkinson.”

She smiled back and allowed the waiter to pull out her chair. “I see you learned some basic manners,” she answered.

He raised an eyebrow at her, a small, crooked smile playing around his lips. She couldn’t help but study him for a minute. He sure had grown up to be a good-looking man. There was still a disheveled look about him, but it made him mysterious somehow, instead of giving him a homeless look.

The waiter approached their table again, offering their menus.

“Have I ever thanked you for that interview you gave about a year back, Mister Potter?”

“Harry, please.” He dragged his hand through his hair, completely nonchalant. “And is that what this is about? Your message was cryptic, not to say totally unclear.”

“Well, you found your way here, didn’t you?”

He barked a laugh. “Yes, true, but that was just about the only understandable thing about it.  _ Past and future events are proving to be cumbersome and, therefore, I find my way to you. Despite past differences, I believe a connection could be mutually beneficial. _ ” He shook his head. “I don’t speak Slytherin.”

“And still, here you are. You could have declined, you know.”

Harry shrugged. “I don’t have anything better to do. You’re paying for dinner, by the way.”

“We’ll see about that.” He narrowed his eyes at her and Pansy quickly backtracked. “Or I’ll pay you back afterward.” She saw the waiter walk their way again. “And call me Pansy,” she quickly added.

“Are you ready to order?”

“Yes,” Pansy answered as Harry quickly looked down at his menu, obviously not having paid it any attention before. “I’ll have coquilles for a starter and the poached salmon after, please.”

The waiter nodded and turned to Harry.

“Uhm, carpaccio first and then the steak, I think, yes.”

Pansy nearly rolled her eyes at his almost uncultured order.

“And for the wine, sir?”

“Oh, uhm. Actually,  _ Pansy _ has a better knowledge of that than me, I believe.”

Pansy blinked, but quickly recovered, ordering them both a different wine. 

“What was that about?” she asked as soon as the waiter was out of earshot.

Harry shrugged. “Wine isn’t my thing,” he said. “And this place is fancier than what I usually go to.”

“But… You’re loaded. Plus, don’t the sponsors take you out for dinner and such?”

“They do. It’s all very stiff and formal though, not my cup of tea.”

She stared at him, for the first time realising how differently they were raised. Part of her started doubting whether or not this was a good idea, but she quickly pushed the intrusive thought away. All she needed to think about was how this would affect  _ dear Viktor _ .

“So, what’s this about, Parkinson?”

“Pansy, please. Don’t start calling me ‘Parkinson’ like you do with Draco. It’s totally uncultured.”

“Is insulting me really what you wish to do right now?”

“Well, Po- Harry,” she stumbled over his name, realising the irony of it at the same time as she watched the corners of his mouth curl up. “Harry,” she repeated. “That was almost Slytherin of you. And it’s not an insult if I merely state the truth.”

“Is that so?”

“It is.” She straightened her posture. “I have a proposal for you.”

“A proposal?” Harry frowned as he echoed her words.

“Yes. You must have picked up on the fact that Viktor Krum will be attending the coming sports gala?”

“With his—” He stopped his sentence. Apparently, he had — besides some manners — learned some tact as well. “Yes, I’m aware.”

“It will not do for me to attend this gala alone, nor will just any random bloke suffice as a date that evening. I want  _ you  _ to be my date, and for us to pretend to have been dating for some time before that. Preferably starting today.”

Harry laughed. “Excuse me?” he finally managed to ask. “Why, exactly, would I want to do that?”

“I can introduce you to Blaise.”

He froze for the shortest of moments and Pansy smirked.

“What does  _ he _ have to do anything with it?”

“I’ve seen the way you look at him.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“I’m sure you do. I’ve spend a lot of time at parties, balls, and galas with nobody to talk to and nothing else to do but observe. I, Harry, know very well why not one girl becomes a long-term relationship.”

“I simply do not feel the need to bind myself to anybody at the moment. Besides, a relationship seems highly impractical given the amount of time I spend abroad training and competing.”

“Yes, that’s what you say to the press.”

“It is the truth.”

“It is  _ part _ of the truth.”

He narrowed his eyes at her again, his body tense. “What are you implying?”

“You, Mister Potter, are very much gay.”

He didn’t move nor answer, glaring at her. Their starters arrived and Pansy daintily began cutting up her coquilles, but Harry didn’t move.

“Eat,” she finally commented. “You’ll insult the cook.”

“The cook?” Harry blinked at her, unfreezing. “That’s what you’re worried about now? That I’ll insult the cook?”

“Wouldn’t you be insulted if people ignored the food you had carefully prepared for them?” 

Pansy watched him pick up his utensils and pop a piece of meat into his mouth. Inwardly, she sighed with relief. Her revelation of his sexual orientation could have resulted in a multitude of reactions. She figured this one was rather neutral. There was still tension in his body, but at least he hadn’t stormed out of the restaurant or jumped up and yelled at her.

“Who else have you voiced this… theory to?” he asked after their plates were cleared from the table.

“No-one. A secret loses its use when it no longer is a secret.”

Harry rolled his eyes at her. “So, you’re going to blackmail me into pretending we’re dating.”

She gave him an overly shocked reaction, trying to hide that his words had, indeed, surprised her.

“I wouldn’t dare,” she said, her hand on her heart as if it was beating loudly. “I have no intention of blackmailing anyone, let alone the boy — well, man,” she amended with another saucy look, before correcting her comment. “Let alone the man who saved the wizarding world — meaning Britain — and one of the most high ranking Quidditch players in the League. I can’t see any good coming from that. No, Harry, as I said in the beginning, this is a proposition. One that can benefit us both.”

The silence stretched on, quickly becoming uncomfortable. She watched the emotions play out on his face. By the time the main course arrived, he still hadn’t said anything.

“No matter what you decide,” she finally said, “I won’t breathe a word about your… orientation to anyone. It’s not my place.” It hurt her to be so blunt, but she figured it was a necessary evil given the fact she was trying to persuade a Gryffindor.

“I’m failing to see why I should trust you.”

That hurt as well, but she couldn’t fault him for his reaction. “I guess I can give you nothing but my word on it.” She hesitated, then took a careful bite of her salmon. “But you must admit,” she continued, “Blaise has got one fine ass.”

Harry laughed, drawing attention. “And a pair of legs to go with it,” he said. “But which way does he turn?”

“Both, actually. One or two of the girls on his arm were the real thing. So were the guys I saw him take home after a night out.”

“Hmm.” Harry started cutting his steak. “And he doesn’t dislike me?”

“I’m quite sure he wouldn’t mind burying his hands in that unruly mane of yours.” She eyed his hair with disdain.

“You can say all you like; I’ve long stopped caring about trying to get my hair under control.”

“Have you ever even cared?”

He chuckled. “That’s up for debate.”

“So,” Pansy ventured, “what do you think?”

“I’m not … uninterested. I will need some more details about what this arrangement would entail, though.”

“Hmm, of course.” Pansy took a breath and ordered her thoughts. “Obviously, I want to get back at Viktor. I’m not going to lie; you’re currently the only one ranked higher than him in the Quidditch rankings.” She grinned. “Imagine his face when I show up with you, of all people. The only one that’s a better player than him. The notoriously single Seeker, finally settling down.”

Harry shook his head at her.

“Have no illusions,” she continued. “I’m completely using you. My personal interest in you stops at your, may I say, gorgeous body? It won’t hurt me to have you by my side.”

“Should I feel flattered?” Harry asked. “Or threatened?”

Pansy ignored him and kept talking. “Of course, we’ll have to act as a couple.” She gave him an inquiring look. “That means you’ll have to be willing to kiss me.”

“I think I can manage that.”

“You’ll have to treat me like your girlfriend — hold my hand, get me drinks, stay by my side, talk to my friends, and so on.”

“I’m not a barbarian, you know.”

She hummed and threw him a sceptical look. “Are you sure about that?”

“You seem to have the habit of insulting me. Is that a way to treat your new boyfriend?”

“So, you agree?”

“Would you like some dessert?”

They both jumped in surprise, having been too caught up in their conversation that neither had heard the waiter approach their table.

“Would you like some tiramisu, Pansy?” Harry asked with a smile.

She almost rolled her eyes at him. “That sounds lovely, Harry,” she answered in a saccharine voice.

He turned towards the waiter. “One tiramisu, two spoons.”

“Certainly, sir.”

“I’ll agree if you stick to your part of the deal,  _ and _ explain this situation to your friends. I will explain it to Ron and Hermione, since they know about my... orientation.”

Pansy nodded. “Will you be able to behave around Draco?”

Harry clacked his tongue in annoyance. “We’re no longer children, Pansy,” he said. “As long as he behaves as well, it will be fine.”

Pansy opened her mouth to snark back at him but decided against it. “I’ll warn him,” she said instead. “We should go out a couple times before the gala as well. Give the press the opportunity to ‘catch’ us.”

“I’m sure you didn’t think of this when you chose this restaurant,” Harry commented dryly. “What would you have done if I had reacted unfavourably?”

“I don’t see how that’s any of your concern.”

There was a moment of silence. Harry sat back, looking amused, while Pansy silently cheered at having been successful. 

“This is so cliché,” she said when their tiramisu arrived.

“I happen to like the clichés,” Harry commented.

“Well, at least it will send a clear signal.”

Harry handed Pansy one of the spoons and they dug in. 

“This is good,” he said around a mouthful. “So, what do you do for a living?” 

“What?”

“What do you do for a living? I think we should at least get to know each other, no?”

“I guess.”

They chatted throughout eating the tiramisu, exchanging basic facts about their lives. Harry ended up paying for their meal. He helped Pansy into her coat and guided her outside with his hand at the small of her back.

“You’re quite good at this,” Pansy commented once they reached an Apparition point.

“Why the surprise? You really do think of me as a barbarian, don’t you?”

“I think all Gryffindors are barbarians, even the pure-blood ones.”

“You’re prejudiced.”

“Perhaps.”

Harry shoved his hands in his pockets. “So, shall I pick you up next Saturday for another dinner?”

Pansy smiled. “Yes. I’ll pick the restaurant and owl you my address.”

“Bossy, aren’t you?”

“You’ll get used to it.”

xXxXxXx Interlude xXxXxXx

In the month and a half leading up to the gala, Pansy allowed Harry to take her out on different days to various places. She had balked and protested when he took her out into the Muggle world, but he’d held fast and argued that she needed to know about where he came from if they wanted to convince others that they were a real couple.

She still thought he had done it to alleviate her from her ‘prejudices’.

Of course, she would never admit to him that the Muggle world had scared her. The prejudice was merely a result from that. Harry had stayed close to her though, and after a while her unease had made way for a careful sort of curiosity. Still, she preferred the wizarding world as the Muggles seemed loud and uncouth.

After about their fifth pseudo-date, the press seemed to catch up. They spotted a reporter outside one of the restaurants they were having dinner at, spurring Harry into touching her cheek and playing with her hair. His smile told her exactly what he thought about it. 

Harry first kissed her less then a week before the gala, reasoning that it would be early enough for the British wizarding press to spread the word, but late enough to prevent the press in Bulgaria from catching on. Viktor was, after all, only going to arrive the day before the event.

Pansy had to admit that Harry had a streak of Slytherin in him. He was fast becoming a good friend and she was rather looking forward to going to the gala with him.

xXxXxXx The Sports Gala xXxXxXx

Looking in the mirror, Pansy smiled. She looked stunning and she knew it. Viktor always said she looked her best in red, so she had deliberately chosen a dark blue gown with black, shimmering embroidery. She’d accompanied it with simple diamond earrings and a single, diamond teardrop necklace. As she wore her hair in a bob, she’d merely put some volumizing product in it.

Harry was due to arrive any minute so they could Apparate to the gala together. If she was honest with herself, Pansy felt a little nervous. There was no doubt she wanted to make Viktor Krum regret his decision. Dumping her for a bint like that; it was obvious he was an absolute idiot.

But what if he was oblivious to it? What if she put in all the effort for nothing? What if she made a fool of herself?

Shaking her head, she tried to rid herself of her doubts. It would work. It had to work. And if not, at least she’d shown the world she didn’t need Seeker number two. She could do better in life than that.

A knock on the door announced Harry’s arrival. After another short look in the mirror, she went to open the door.

“Sweet Merlin!”

“Hello to you too, Pansy,” Harry answered with a raised eyebrow.

She gaped. She knew she was gaping but found it hard to stop. Damn, but he was looking good. It was a sad thing he was gay.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you this dressed up,” she finally managed to say. “Not at any of the big parties or rewards.”

“Well,” Harry said, “I figured you would never allow me to accompany you in my usual garb. I’ve switched crowds and all, you know. I have to look my part. Is this Slytherin worthy?”

“Is it?” she invited him in and circled him, appraising. “I would say so. Too bad about the hair, though.”

“Hmm, there’s no solving that. Besides, I wouldn’t want to start looking like Draco, all slicked up. There’s a limit.” He laughed as Pansy looked skywards in exasperation. “You look pretty gorgeous yourself,” he said, stepping forward and offering her a box. “Here.”

“What’s this?” she asked. “Why are there flowers inside?”

“It’s a Muggle thing. At least, I’ve seen it in a couple of movies; I have no idea if they still do it, but I liked the idea.”

“To give me flowers? Seems like a rather generic thing to do.”

“This is a corsage.” He pulled another box from his pocket, enlarging it. “I have one too, albeit a smaller one. The flowers match, see? You put yours around your wrist and I put mine in the buttonhole here, and people can immediately see we belong together.”

Pansy was looking between him and the box in her hands, looking pensive. 

“You said you were wearing dark blue, so I decided on white instead of pink or red flowers.” He hesitated. “Uhm, if you don’t like it, we can just forget about it.”

“Left wrist or right one?”

“I think on the left.”

“You think? You’re not sure?”

“Does it matter?”

“You really are an uncultured swine. Of course it matters. When you do something according to a set of rules, you have to follow those rules!”

“It’s not like anybody’s going to notice.”

She swatted his chest and held out her hand. “Put it on.”

“So you’re okay with this?”

“I hate to admit, but it’s a good idea. Now  _ put it on _ .”

“Yes, ma’am.” Careful not to harm the delicate flowers, he wrapped the corsage around her wrist, then put his own in the buttonhole. “Now, when do you want to arrive?”

“What do you mean?”

“Do you want to arrive before Krum, after him, or at the same time?”

“How would you know?”

“I’ve got my sources,” he said with a wink.

“You’ve put your friends on the lookout, didn’t you?”

“Perhaps.”

Pansy wondered if she was a bad or a good influence on him. “I would like to steal his limelight, but wouldn’t arriving at the same time be risky? What if they think him more interesting?”

“With you looking like that? Not a chance,” Harry answered with a wink.

Just then, a silver Jack Russell bounded into the room. “Percy says he’s supposed to arrive in ten minutes,” Ron’s voice announced.

“It seems we have ten minutes to spare,” Harry commented dryly. “Any last minute changes you would like to make?”

“How much humiliation can you stand?” Pansy asked.

“Excuse me?”

She gave him a mischievous grin. “I’ve got an idea.”

“Humiliating me will help you how? Aren’t I supposed to make you look  _ good _ ?”

“Yes, well,” she answered vaguely, advancing on him. He threw her a wary look. “We are a relatively new couple, aren’t we?” she said, grabbing his jacket, mindful of the flowers. “It’s not entirely unthinkable we got … distracted.” Raising herself to her tiptoes, she pressed a kiss to his neck, deliberately nicking the collar of his shirt.

“What…” Harry rubbed at the spot she’d just kissed, his hand coming away tainted with her lipstick. “You did not!” 

“I did,” Pansy answered with glee. 

She walked off to her room. Her lipstick needed reapplying, after all. Harry followed her. 

“Pansy!” he whined. “Now I’ve got lipstick on my—  oh, you little Morgana! Blaise had better like me!”

“He’s eagerly awaiting his chance,” she answered, her tone dry.

Harry growled and rubbed some more at his neck and shirt.

“You’re only going to make it worse,” Pansy said. “And don’t you dare spell it clean. This is perfect for the gossip mill.”

He glared at her but let it be. Pansy was giving him her most innocent smile and after only a few seconds he devolved in laughter.

“Whatever, you witch,” he exclaimed.

She grinned triumphantly. They chatted about inconsequential things when another silver Jack Russell appeared. 

“He’s here.”

Harry offered Pansy his arm. “Let’s make an entrance, shall we?”

“Let’s,” she answered, putting her hand in the crook of his arm, straightening her posture, and putting on a happy but innocent face.

After a nod, Harry Apparated them both to the gala. They took a deep breath as they steadied themselves, before leaving the Apparition point and walking out of the charmed area and onto the red carpet. 

Viktor and Bisera were not far ahead of them, talking to the press. The woman was obviously playing at being overwhelmed, allowing Krum the role of protector. Pansy, however, could see she was enjoying all the attention.

Had he really left her for that slag? She wasn’t even that pretty. Pansy had expected her to be a bomb of a woman, gorgeous at the least, but this one was plain. There really was nothing special about her. 

“Mister Potter! Miss Parkinson!”

One of the reporters had spotted them and rushed their way. A second and a third soon followed. The latter was a reporter of Witch Weekly and immediately spotted the corsage.

“Miss Parkinson, I must commend on your choice of dress. It absolutely suits you. And Mister Potter, you are looking dashing as well. Are you both wearing the same flowers? Where did this idea come from?”

“Is that a smudge of lipstick?” another cried out.

Pansy turned away, giving her best embarrassment act. From the corner of her eye, she could see the other reporters abandoning Krum and his partner at the exclamation of their colleague. Bisera looked absolutely put out by the sudden lack of attention. Viktor was staring their way. Pansy hid a grin behind her hand. At least her ploy seemed to be working. 

Returning her attention to the reporters, she noticed Harry rubbing at his neck with a sheepish grin on his face.

“I’m sorry, love,” Pansy muttered, just loud enough that the reporters could hear. “I should have checked.”

He stopped rubbing and patted her hand, drawing attention back to the corsage. As if the lipstick had not been noticed at all, he launched into an overly romantic explanation about the flowers. Pansy smiled and commented when needed or asked. 

After what must have been a full fifteen minutes, Harry started shooing away the reporters. “I really must get my dear Pansy a drink,” he said, before pulling another sheepish face. “And clean up.”

The reporters laughed and allowed them to pass. Once they were inside, Pansy let out a small giggle.

“That was brilliant!”

“Happy you liked it. Can I get rid of this now?” he answered with a vague gesture towards his collar.

“Of course,  _ love, _ ” she answered with a touch of sarcasm. 

Pulling her wand from the pocket sewn especially into the skirt of her gown, she placed it on his collar and spelled it clean, zapping Harry slightly in the process. He shivered.

“Was that really necessary?”

“Smile, Harry, people are watching.”

She smiled at him and inclined her head slightly to the side where she had spotted Viktor and Bisera. He was looking at them, obviously not paying attention to whatever his girlfriend was telling him. Harry nodded that he’d understood and promptly took her hand and placed his other at the small of her back. He guided them towards the bar for a drink.

“It is most unbecoming to take your girlfriend to the bar with you,” Pansy complained. “You drop her off at a table and go get the drinks.”

“My Pansy,” he answered, pressing a kiss to her hair. “I can’t stand the thought of parting from you for even a minute.”

“You’re so corny.”

“I am, aren’t I?” he answered in good nature.

After getting their drinks, Harry did bring them to a table. A walking dinner was planned to start in half an hour, allowing the guests to mingle first. 

Not long after they had settled, Ron and Hermione came up to them. They had decided to come as friends, given that Hermione was currently single and Ron’s wife — Lavender — was due anytime. 

“Quite the entrance you made, Harry, Pansy,” Hermione greeted them, giving Harry a kiss on the cheek and hesitating when she reached Pansy. 

The latter rolled her eyes and initiated a brief hug. “We’re supposed to be friends,” she murmured in Hermione’s ear.

“Yes, well…” Hermione answered in response, turning red.

“Yeah, mate,” Ron chimed in. “You should have seen both Krum and his girl when the reporters abandoned them.” He grinned widely.

“Thanks for being on the lookout,” Harry answered, clasping Ron on the shoulder.

“Anytime. Feels like the old days.”

“It does.”

Pansy raised a delicate eyebrow as both men dissolved in laughter. 

“Men…” Hermione sighed.

“Something like that,” Pansy agreed.

The women looked at each other and smiled.

“Hey, didn’t you date Viktor back in fourth year?” Pansy asked.

Hermione hummed. “I wouldn’t call it dating; it was more of an… exploration?” She shrugged. “We kissed once but I don’t think we ever truly became a couple. After they left at the end of the school year, we owled for some time, but with everything going on we lost contact.”

They chatted, finding some common ground while Harry and Ron did their thing, laughing. After some time, they were joined by Draco, Blaise, Theo, and Daphne. There was a tense moment as the Gryffindors and Slytherins warily watched each other, until Pansy decided she had enough.

“For Merlin’s sake!” she exclaimed, facing the Slytherins. “What are we, twelve? Stop behaving like you’ve forgotten your manners! At least greet them properly, regardless of what you think!”

That seemed to snap her friends into action and they exchanged pleasantries. She grinned at Hermione’s narrow-eyed look. Apparently, her intelligence was more than just a rumour. Ron, however, seemed completely oblivious to the veiled insult. Harry merely rolled his eyes at her, as was his habit.

Conversation was slow to start, but once Draco and Hermione got into an argument about runes, things proceeded smoothly. Theo and Ron were talking Quidditch, prompting Daphne to leave her fiancé to join Pansy. That, coincidentally, left Harry and Blaise to their devices. 

Pansy kept an eye on them both, filling Daphne in on the details of her arrangement with Harry. The woman cooed and they soon started predicting how both men would get on. When Harry gave Blaise a meaningful smirk, Pansy elbowed him in the ribs.

“Tonight, Harry,  _ dear _ , you are still mine.”

“How uncultured of you, Pansy,” Blaise drawled. “And you dared judge us earlier. We were merely having a conversation. Is that any way to treat your boyfriend?” He turned towards Harry. “Trust me when I say I treat my partners  _ very well. _ ”

Harry’s ears turned red and Pansy snagged his arm. “Look, the buffet has been revealed. I’m starving. Let’s get something to eat, hmm?” She forcefully dragged him away from Blaise, who was sniggerig at them.

“Sorry, Pansy,” Harry said.

“He’s a smooth talker, I know,” she answered. “You’ll get him once I’m through with you.”

“Through with me?” Harry teased.

“Oh! You know what I mean.”

They socialised and mingled until the buffet was changed for desserts and the dance floor was opened. Pansy shot Harry a look and with a sigh, he invited her for a dance.

“Wait,” she suddenly said, hesitating. “Do you know how to dance?”

“Yes,” he answered. “Don’t ask how I learned. I don’t particularly enjoy it though. Consider this a treat.”

“So,” she continued, once they arrived on the floor and he started twirling her in a walz, “how did you learn?”

He spun her away from him. “Not answering that, you incorrigible woman,” he said once she was back in his arms. He pulled her closer, murmuring in her ear. “Krum’s on the floor as well.”

Pansy allowed herself to relax and lean into his body. It was perhaps a bit more intimate than one would expect on such a formal occasion, but it fit the lipstick-smeared image they had presented earlier. It would also send a clear message to not-so-dear Viktor.

Halfway through the second dance, Pansy had to admit Harry was more than a decent dancer. His steps were smooth, without hesitation, and he was leading her flawlessly through the steps.

“I don’t get why you don’t enjoy this,” she said. “You’re good.”

Harry gave a noncommittal grunt. “Krum can’t take his eyes off you,” he said. “Let’s see…” He nuzzled her neck and gave her a small kiss just behind her ear, causing goosebumps to erupt. “Yup, that definitely bothers him.”

“You could have warned me,” Pansy complained. If anything, those little, faked intimate moments with Harry only emphasized that she urgently needed to get laid. 

“Bothered?” Harry drawled. It made her believe the bastard knew. “It wouldn’t look real if I warned you, now would it?”

She decided not to answer him, sticking her nose in the air, then thinking better of it for the sake of their image and grumbling while leaning back into him. 

“Have we danced long enough?” Harry asked after the third dance.

“You really don’t like it, do you?”

“No.”

“I guess this will suffice,” she said, magnanimously. Harry let out an audible, relieved sigh. “For now.”

“Minx.”

“You love it, admit it.”

“Let’s get back to our table and I’ll get us another drink, alright?”

She nodded her assent. He guided her off the dancefloor, only to find their table deserted. Shrugging, Harry promised her to be back soon and headed towards the bar. He wasn’t gone for long when an all too familiar voice addressed her.

“Pansy.”

Straightening her posture and putting an almost icy expression on her face, she turned to answer him.

“Mister Krum.”

“Pansy, please, don’t be like this.”

She merely raised an eyebrow.

“I-I know I shouldn’t haff dumped you like zat. I should haff, uhm, visited you or something.”

Again, Pansy remained silent. His words were hardly worthy of a response.

“Pansy, just talk to me.”

“Shouldn’t you be getting back to your sponsor?”

He cringed slightly at her words. “That’s not vot it is. I thought— It vos difficult, our relationship. Ve vere so very far apart. I thought I vonted someone closer to me, vho I would see more often. Someone to start a family vith.” He sighed. “But she is not you.”

Pansy glanced at Bisera, who was watching them from a distance with her arms crossed.

“Obviously,” she said with disdain. “But I guess that’s your problem, now, isn’t it?”

He reached out to her, but Pansy’s glare had his hand stop and hover mid-air. “Can’t ve— Vot if—”

“Everything okay here?” 

Two glasses were put on the table and Pansy felt an arm curl around her waist.

“Sorry it took me so long, love,” Harry mumbled into her hair before turning his attention on Krum. “Viktor, long time, no see.”

“Harry,” Viktor answered, looking decidedly uncomfortable. “I vill leave you be then.” 

After another regretful look at Pansy, he turned and left. 

“I guess it’s safe to say he’s jealous,” Harry commented. “Mission accomplished.”

Pansy sighed, taking a dainty sip from her champagne.

“What?” he asked. “You’re not happy? Isn’t this what you wanted?”

“He’s behaving horribly pathetic, isn’t he?” she answered. “And— Oh, no!”

“What?”

“Parents, two o’clock.”

She had barely spoken the words before her parents were upon them.

“Pansy, darling!” her mother exclaimed with all of the usual drama and fake air-kisses. “How have you been?”

Meanwhile, her father was shaking Harry’s hand, stating nonsense about how good he looked, how lucky Pansy was to have him, and so on. How Harry managed to smile through it, she didn’t know. She guessed he’d had a lot of practice smiling inanely at sponsors and fans.

Their very unpleasant exchange of pleasantries was interrupted by a shriek and a string of angry, unintelligible words. Their group — along with everybody else in the ballroom — looked up to see Bisera shouting at Viktor in what Pansy now recognised as Bulgarian.

Wild gestures were made in Pansy’s direction while Viktor very clearly tried to calm Bisera down. This seemed to only make the situation worse.

“Oh, my,” Pansy’s mother said. “What a place to have such a scene. That woman clearly doesn’t have any manners.”

Pansy smirked and nodded gleefully. The few members of the press that were allowed at the gala were having a field day, flashing pictures with Quick Quills scribbling away. No doubt a translation of whatever Bisera was shouting at Viktor would be found in the next day’s papers.

Eventually, Krum seemed to realise there was no saving the situation and he forcefully dragged his soon-to-be ex-girlfriend out of the room. Murmured conversation started up again after they’d left and a reporter approached their table.

“Miss Parkinson, Mister Potter, Mister and Madam Parkinson,” he greeted. “Miss Parkinson, I saw Mister Krum talking to you earlier. May I ask what the conversation was about? Or do you have anything to say about the scene we’ve just witnessed?”

Pansy smiled sweetly at him. “Mister Krum approached me to voice some… regrets. I have nothing to say about what we’ve just witnessed, other than such a… uhm…  _ discussion _ is better held at the privacy of one’s home.”

“Well said, dear,” Mister Parkinson added with a sage nod.

“And you, Mister Potter?” the reporter asked. “How do you feel about Mister Krum approaching Miss Parkinson?”

Harry shrugged. “I trust Pansy,” he answered, pulling her a bit closer.

“Of course. Is there anything—”

“That will be all,” Pansy stated, cutting him off.

The reporter faltered before giving a small bow. “Indeed. Thank you for your statements.”

xXxXxXx A Month after the Gala xXxXxXx

“So,” Harry asked from Pansy’s couch. “How long do you want to keep this up?”

Pansy dropped down next to him. “I’m not sure.”

The newspapers the morning after the gala hadn’t been mild for Krum and his girlfriend. Translation of Bisera’s screams had only partially been printed, accompanied by the note that the rest of it was ‘unsuited for the newspaper’ and ‘better left unrepeated’. Even the bit that  _ was _ printed revealed a shocking use of language.

It made Pansy feel a little bad about the situation. No matter how much she had wanted her revenge, she didn’t feel Viktor deserved such abuse. The pair of them had almost immediately disappeared from London and speculation had run wild. More than once, Pansy had found herself evading reporters. Only a week after the gala, Viktor and Bisera’s break-up was spread all over the gossip column of the papers.

“Earth to Pansy.”

She snapped back to the present. “Yes, well...”

“You’ve had your revenge, right? I mean, what more is there to be achieved?”

“I could kill him.” 

Much to her delight, Harry gave her a sideway look that clearly conveyed that he wasn’t sure whether or not she was kidding.

“Uhm.”

“Ugh, really?” Pansy laughed. “Why would I do that? Don’t you know it’s much more effective to let them simmer in their misery?”

“Right.” Harry dragged a hand through his hair. “Remind me not to get on your bad side.”

“Don’t get on my bad side.”

“You’re a devil in disguise.”

“I’m disguised?”

He barked a laugh at that. “No, really,” he said. “What’s our timeline here?”

“Eager to get to Blaise?”

“You’re avoiding the question.”

Pansy sighed. “It’s a matter of breaking it off without making it obvious it was just a ploy. And I don’t want another round of drama.”

“Dump me?”

“And be the villain again? No, thank you.”

“What if… what if I go public?”

She turned to regard him.  _ “What?” _

“What if I, you know, tell them I’m gay?”

“But, why? We can figure out something else. You don’t have to do that.”

“It’s long overdue anyway,” he answered with a shrug. “And — if Blaise will have me — I don’t want to hide.”

Pansy hummed. She didn’t doubt Blaise would want him. Harry wasn’t the only one pestering her about ending the charade. Apparently, Harry had made a more than favourable impression at the gala.

“It would solve the problem, I think, if we deal with it properly. I don’t want to pressure you, though. This was not part of our agreement.”

“Oh!” Harry exclaimed dramatically, clutching at his heart. “And here I was, thinking we had become friends. But no, this is still a matter of agreement. No doubt you’ll go back to thinking me a barbarian Gryffindor after we split up.”

She shoved him against the shoulder. “Stop behaving like such a dork.”

He grinned at her before turning serious again. “I’m not kidding though. I really am ready to go public.”

Pansy studied him for a while, then nodded. “Okay. Than that’s what we’ll do.”

A few, discreet owls later, a meeting was set up for the day after next with a trusted reporter. They were meeting her in a Muggle café, out of the way of prying eyes and ears. 

“You’re nervous,” Pansy stated, feeling Harry’s hand shake as they walked up to the café.

“I’m not,” he protested.

She snorted. “You don’t fool me,” she answered. “It’s okay, you know. Just, I don’t know, at least  _ try _ to hide it.”

“I am hiding it!”

“Not very good, I must say. You would have been a lousy Slytherin.”

“Thank Merlin I asked the hat for Gryffindor then.”

“What?”

“Miss Parkinson, Mister Potter, such a delight.”

Pansy narrowed her eyes at Harry — who was smirking — and turned towards the reporter.

“Mrs McMirian, how kind of you to meet us on such short notice.”

“How could I pass up an exclusive interview with such a unique couple as the both of you? I am honoured.”

They settled down and ordered tea. Pansy noticed Harry fidgeting and jabbed him in the ribs, earning them a raised eyebrow from the reporter.

“So,” McMirian started. “What is this matter you wished to discuss with me?”

Pansy smiled at the woman. “There is a… situation we want properly handled by the press, instead of seeing it inadequately smeared across the gossip pages,” she started. “Which is, of course, why I contacted you.”

She took a sip of her tea before continuing. “You see, Harry and I, we are breaking up... on friendly terms.”

McMirian blinked rapidly, her face switching between shocked at Pansy’s declaration, and absolute delight about the attention her story would get.

“That is too bad,” the woman said, trying but failing to sound sympathetic. “May I ask for the reason?”

“I’m gay,” Harry blurted out.

The woman nearly dropped her tea. “You’re  _ what _ ?”

xXxXxXx About Ten Days Later xXxXxXx

“You  _ don’t _ have to do this, Pansy.”

“But I want to.”

“It’s strange.”

“Stop complaining.”

“For crying out loud, woman!” 

“Don’t you want to look your best?”

“You know my hair is beyond fixing. Stop messing with it.”

“You’re nervous again.”

“You’re not helping!”

Pansy merely grinned. “I have to keep my promise, Harry.”

“You already have.”

“Not really.” 

She grabbed his hand and pulled him into the lounge. With a sigh, Harry stopped fighting but instead started looking embarrassed.

“At least it will give you something to start your conversation with.”

“What will?”

“Complaining about me.”

“Oh, you didn’t need to do  _ this _ in order to achieve that. Plenty of other things about you I could complain about.”

“You’re being rude.”

“Says the woman who won’t listen to my protests.”

“Shut it, Harry. I’ve spotted him.”

“Where?”

She almost laughed at the sudden eagerness in his voice. Once more yanking on his hand, she pulled him towards where Blaise was sitting. The latter lazily studied Harry while they approached, only raising an inquiring eyebrow at Pansy when they stopped in front of him.

“She was adamant,” Harry mumbled.

“Hush!” she said to silence him. “Harry Potter, may I formally introduce you to Blaise Zabini?” She indicated the Italian with a grand wave of her hand. “Blaise Zabini, may I formally introduce you to Harry Potter?”

She could see Harry was starting to blush. By the look in Blaise’s eyes, he had seen it too.

“Well, then,” Pansy continued. “Blaise, I hereby hand my ex-not-really-ex-boyfriend over to you.”

He smiled slowly. “He’ll be in good hands.”

Pansy coughed. “No doubt.” She glanced from one man to the other, realising they were quickly forgetting about her presence. “Aaaaand, that’s my cue. I’ll be going  _ before _ I become the unwanted third wheel. Enjoy yourselves, boys.”

With that, she turned and left the bar. The article about the breakup had been well-written and quite easily accepted by the general public. There were no loose ends and Pansy felt quite satisfied with the general outcome. Let Viktor be miserable and alone, and Harry exactly the opposite. 

Pansy smiled as she stepped out onto the street. She had decided to enjoy the single life for a while, spending the family fortune on travelling and doing absolutely nothing of importance. Perhaps she would find some good-looking men along the way to entertain her. 

She spotted a rather interesting one entering another classy pub a few doors down. Pansy smirked. With some luck, entertainment would find her as soon as that evening. She was a free woman after all.

  
  
  
  
  
  



End file.
